


The Anniversary Gift

by adafrog



Category: Donald Strachey Mysteries (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 22:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adafrog/pseuds/adafrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: The Anniversary Gift<br/>Fandom: Strachey<br/>Rating: PG<br/>Spoilers: None<br/>Words: 1363<br/>A/N: Written for the house challenge. Difficult one for me, even though I knew what I wanted to say. Mom was being difficult. ;)</p><p>Written in 2007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Anniversary Gift

Donald walked into the coffee shop, smelling the rich coffee scent as he looked for his companion for the afternoon. Seeing her, he smiled, and quickly made his way to the table.

“Mom,” he said warmly, leaning down to hug her tightly. He placed a kiss on her cheek, then sat down. “You’re looking lovely, as usual.”

She rolled her eyes, “flattery will get you nowhere, Donald.” 

He laughed back, “hey, I only tell you the truth, mom.”

Slapping him on the shoulder, she shooed him off. “Go get me some coffee.”

Finally returning with the requested beverages, he set hers in front of her, and sat down. 

“Thank you,” she smiled. “So how’s my Timmy?”

“My Timmy is doing very well, thank you.” He winked. “He’s been spending a lot of time with the realtor, looking for a house for us.”

“He told me about that.” She nodded thoughtfully, “it’s hard, finding that first house. I remember when John and I bought our first, it was our fifth anniversary. Tiny little thing.” Looking at Donald, she smiled, “isn’t yours coming up?”

“Next week,” he replied, “we’re having dinner at Cliffs.” 

“Romantic,” she winked, and then laughed as Donald blushed. 

“Mom,” he whined. 

“I’m just glad you two are happy. Five years is a long time, and I’m proud of you.” She gave him a warm look. Then, more seriously, “John and I would like to give you an anniversary present. Of a sort.” 

Donald sipped his coffee, and gave her a suspicious look. “Of a sort,” he repeated.

She nodded decisively, “it would actually be a favor to us.”

Nodding slowly, Donald narrowed his eyes at her. “A favor…”

“You see we have this rental property that’s in poor shape. The last renters…” she grimaced, “anyway, it wouldn’t be worthwhile for us to sell it. But,” she pointed her finger at Donald, “it would be perfect for two men who wouldn’t mind doing a little work.” 

Donald’s eyes had widened as she spoke. “Mom, you cannot give us a house!” 

“Why not?” She smiled serenely.

“Why not?” He huffed. Realizing he was still repeating her, he shook his head, and sighed. “Timmy and I can’t possibly accept that.”

Grasping his hand, she squeezed it, then held it tightly. “Donald, I know Timmy and his father haven’t had the best relationship for a while.” She sighed sadly, “There’s not a lot I can do about that. But I can give my sons a place to live.” Looking intently at Donald, she added, “and when I said that it would help us out, and that it needed work, I was serious. It’s livable, but it’ll take several thousand dollars of work. And as for helping us out, it’s a tax thing.”

Donald sighed, and rubbed his forehead with his free hand. 

Seeing him starting to give in, she leaned forward. “Please, Donald. I know Timmy will say yes if you’re already okay with it. And I really want to do this for him.” 

Shaking his head, Donald sighed again, and gave in. “And we both know how much Timmy likes fixer-uppers,” he said, self deprecatingly.

Smiling, she squeezed his hand again. “No Donald, you are the perfect man for my baby, don’t ever forget that.” She sat back, “now, how about dinner tonight? There’s a lovely restaurant just a few blocks from the house.” 

 

The little restaurant was set between a coffee house and used book store, on a tree lined street, in an almost residential area of town. It was the kind of place that didn’t look like much from the outside, but had exceptional food on the inside. 

Timmy, Donald, and Mrs. Callahan had just finished their dinner, and were enjoying dessert while Donald regaled them with tales of his latest case. 

“…and that’s why he did it, I swear.”

Laughing, Timmy shook his head. “There is no way that’s true.”

“It is,” Donald insisted, “it was all about the collectible figurines. He had left some hidden in the house.”

“It’s all about what’s important to us,” Mrs. Callahan smiled, then signaled for the waiter. “Speaking of which, why don’t we take a walk?”

Giving Donald a curious look, Timmy got up, and pulled out her chair. “Of course, mother. Where would you like to go?”

She led the way out of the restaurant, and turned toward the house. “It’s not far, just a few blocks away, in fact.”

Still very confused, Timmy caught up to Donald, who was a few steps behind his mother. “Donald,” he intoned.

Donald did his best to keep his eyes forward, not trusting himself to look Timmy in the eye. “Timmy,” he replied, hoping he wouldn’t have to answer any questions just yet.

Timmy glanced at his mother, then narrowed his eyes at his partner. “You know what’s going on,” he stated. Taking Donald’s silence for assent, he glared, “she’s who you had coffee with this afternoon, wasn’t it?”

“How did you know…” Donald started to question.

“Secretary.” Timmy interrupted. “Told me where you were before he knew who I was.” He frowned. “You need a new one.”

Before Donald could reply, Mrs. Callahan turned down a sidewalk. “And here we are,” she said, almost grandly.

Donald and Timmy looked up to see a two story Victorian house. It had once been majestic, but had obviously fallen on harder times; the paint was faded and peeling, the porch railing falling down, and there were tiles missing from the roof. 

Walking up to the front door, Mrs. Callahan took out a key, and turned it in the lock. “I know it doesn’t look like much, and will need a lot of work. But,” she added, “just look at the inside.”

Following her into the house, Donald and Timmy were amazed by the tall ceiling and large fireplace, as well as the French doors opening onto the back yard. Timmy wandered over to the stairs, and ran his hand up the carved railing. “It’s beautiful,” he praised. Then he frowned, “you’re not moving here, are you?” 

“No Timothy,” she smiled indulgently. “This is for you. Happy anniversary.”

Jaw dropping in shock, Timmy turned, looking at the house anew. He glared briefly at Donald. “You knew,” he accused.

“I did. I’m sorry.” Donald pulled Timmy into his arms.

“This is big. A house, my mother wants to give us a house.” Timmy pulled back to look at Donald. “What do you think?”

“It took me a while to convince Donald this afternoon,” Mrs. Callahan interrupted, and then sighed, looking at Timmy. “We…I just wanted to do something for my only child, and this came up.”

Timmy frowned. “Father knows about this?” 

She took his hand, squeezing it. “He does, Timothy. And no matter how much he’s being an ass about your work,” she grimaced, then gave a small smile, “he still loves you.” 

“He won’t even talk to me, mother. And when I see him he acts like I don’t exist,” he sighed, and let her pull him into her arms. 

“We both love you very much, Timothy. Your father just needs to work through some things…”

“He’s had time,” Timothy crankily interrupted.

“And some more of my gentle persuasion,” she winked. “He’ll get there, I promise.” Pulling back, she grasped his hands, squeezing them tight. “Just give him some more time, okay Timothy?”

He nodded, and sighed. “Okay mother.”

She held his hand a bit longer, then let go. “So,” she continued breezily, “the house needs so much work now, there’s no way we could break even if we sold it. And giving it to you gives us a tax break. Does that help your answer any?”

Chuckling, Timmy turned back to Donald, and sobered. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

Holding him tight with one hand, Donald reached up with the other to run through his hair, to his neck. Caressing Timmy’s jaw with his thumb, he murmured, “whatever you want Timmy. I want what makes you happy.”

Dropping a soft kiss on Donald’s lips, Timmy smiled. “Thank you,” he whispered. He kissed him again, then turned to his mom. “Thank you, mother, we love it.”


End file.
